


Put Me Under

by hoomhum



Series: Monster March [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Consensual Mind Control, M/M, Monsterfucking March, Silly nonsense, Siren Jaskier | Dandelion, sort of mind control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29793786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoomhum/pseuds/hoomhum
Summary: Jaskier has Siren blood and as such the ability to cast a Thrall with his voice. He and Geralt decide to try it out in bed, with much success.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Monster March [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189985
Comments: 4
Kudos: 165





	Put Me Under

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a post about Monsterfucking March and well... let's give it a shot. This is probably much fluffier and sillier than anyone intended, but I had fun. Please excuse the ridiculous lyrics.

"Are you sure about this?" Jaskier asks, pulling away from their kiss and putting a hand to Geralt's chest to stop him chasing his lips for more.

"I'm sure," Geralt replies. They are already undressed, cuddled upon Geralt's blanket and fur laden bed, having retreated early for the evening and refusing the other Wolves' invitation of cards and drinks.

"But are you really? You won't be able to say no once I put you under." 

"I know," Geralt confirms, leaning forward anyway and kissing the delicate skin of Jaskier's exposed throat. His bard had explained it all not long ago, his siren heritage and ability to enthrall men. "You let me put you under Axii, remember? It's not so different. I trust you."

It had been a hell of a night too, using the sign to enhance their pleasure. They'd had a conversation much like this one, too, going over limits and ensuring all parties were fully convinced. 

"I know you do," Jaskier murmurs into his hair. "But this is— oh it's different, isn't it? I don't use this often."

"If you don't want to…"

"I do." Jaskier squirms in his lap, shifting to straddle him properly. "I do. Gods, the potential of it. But I want to make sure _you_ do."

"I do. And if you ask me one more time, I'm going to assume you're not as sure as I am and go take Eskel up on that round of Gwent. So why don't we assume we _both_ want this and give it a go. If it's terrible we'll never do it again."

Jaskier's grip tightens on his wrist at his threat to leave and he wrinkles his nose adorably. 

"Alright, alright. Same rules as with Axii, okay? Nothing we haven't done with each other before. It'll feel a bit… odd. But good." 

"Go ahead," Geralt says. He presses a kiss to Jaskier's lips. "Let me hear you. Have your way with me."

Jaskier smiles, resting their foreheads together for a moment, and then he begins to hum. The sound starts deep in his chest and when opens his mouth to sing, it is nothing like the voice that Geralt is so used to hearing.

_Kiss me, my darling, my Witcher,_

_Touch me my lover, my friend,_

_Fuck me, oh dear hearted Witcher,_

_Do well and I may let you spend._

The words settle into Geralt's skin and he moves before Jaskier finishes the last note, laying wet, open mouthed kisses to his lover's throat and chest. It's nothing like being under Axii, not in the slightest. Where Axii makes one pliant and dull, the part-siren's song fills his veins with fire. 

He turns them quickly, tipping Jaskier onto his back on the bed and kissing his lips insistently as Jaskier finishes his song. He kneels between his lover's spread thighs and crowds forward to do as commanded.

"Oil," Jaskier yelps, slapping at his chest with a laugh. "Oil, you brute, I said please me well and you can come, you _need to prepare me first_." 

Please him well. Geralt knows how to do that. He has years of experience playing the instrument of Jaskier's body. He shuffles back, kissing the inside of Jaskier's knee. His every thought is consumed with drawing whimpers and shudders and sighs from the man beneath him. 

A jar of oil is pressed into his hand and he makes use of it, but not before licking and kissing between Jaskier's legs enough to make him squirm and push back in a nonverbal request for more. Then he goes slowly, petting around the bard's hole before nudging slowly inside one finger at a time. He teases him, using every trick he knows to make Jaskier shiver and quake. 

"I'm good, Geralt, come on," Jaskier says, and then when Geralt doesn't yield, he brings out his Voice again.

_Fuck me, I'm ready, my darling,_

_Give me your every and all,_

_Put your cock in me Geralt, oh dearheart,_

_This isn't the time now to stall._

As though moved by puppet strings, Geralt surges up and hooks Jaskier's legs over his shoulders. He slides home in one thrust, and Jaskier wails in pleasure, gripping the sheets hard and throwing back his head. 

Later, once Geralt has come under the instruction of another little ditty and the thrall of Jaskier's Voice has faded, they lay together in the mess they've made. Geralt has his face hidden against Jaskier's neck, fingers petting through a clean patch of hair on the siren bard's chest. 

"I'd say that was a success, no?" Jaskier asks, a little tentative. They're both well fucked out, but orgasm doesn't necessarily equal happiness with such an endeavor.

"Just one complaint," Geralt says quietly. He feels Jaskier stiffen and is quick to carry on. "Those were not your best rhymes."

He's not expecting the pillow that thwaps him about the head, but it is, perhaps, the only fair response.


End file.
